


it's not even a place

by Periwinkle2016



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Good Place (TV) Fusion, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Other, Screenplay/Script Format, Smart Crowley (Good Omens), Sweet Aziraphale (Good Omens), The Good Place (TV) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periwinkle2016/pseuds/Periwinkle2016
Summary: AZIRAPHALE: In the beginning, we woke up in the Good Place--CROWLEY: I told you, Aziraphale. This can't be the Good Place.AZIRAPHALE: (cont'd) --and Eric introduced us as soulmates, which was just lovely.Crowley SPLUTTERS.AZIRAPHALE: But unfortunately, all was not as happy as it initially seemed.Or, watch Aziraphale and Crowley navigate the shenanigans of a Good Place neighbourhood run by Eric, as a very cracky love story attempts to unfold.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 24





	1. Welcome. Everything is Fine. (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Knowledge of The Good Place is not essential. No major characters from The Good Place will appear, though there will be some spoilers from seasons 1 and 2.
> 
> The title comes from this Chidi quote: This is what we’ve been looking for since the day we met. Time. That’s what the Good Place really is--it’s not even a place, really. It’s just having enough time with the people you love.

EXT. BEAUTIFUL GARDEN - MORNING 

ANTHONY CROWLEY opens his eyes. He stands in a garden, underneath a perfectly clear blue sky. He looks around, suspicious.

From his POV: written on a sign in front of an enormous apple tree, in HUGE GREEN LETTERS:

**WELCOME! EVERYTHING IS FINE.**

He frowns a little at that. ERIC walks into view, holding a clipboard.

 **ERIC** : Anthony? Come on in.

INT. ERIC’S OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER

The OFFICE is located in a bandstand and appears to lack any protection from the elements other than its roof. Eric sits behind a minimalist white office desk in a matching ergonomic chair. Across from him, Crowley reluctantly lowers himself into a chair whose seat is solely made of moulded white plastic.

 **ERIC** : Hi Athony, I’m Eric. How are you?

 **CROWLEY** : It’s Crowley, and not great. (beat) One question: Where am I, who are you, and what’s going on?

 **ERIC** : Right. So: you, Anthony Crowley, are dead. Your life on Earth has ended, and you are now in the next phase of your existence in the universe.

Crowley stares at him, eyebrows raised.

 **CROWLEY** : Cool, so that pretends to answer two of my questions.

Eric appears caught off guard. 

**ERIC** : Well, uh, I’m Eric.

He looks nervously at Crowley. Crowley looks back and gestures lazily for him to continue.

 **ERIC** : And I’m… the architect of this neighbourhood?

 **CROWLEY** : So, you designed it?

 **ERIC** : (more confidently) Yes. I designed and calibrated every detail.

 **CROWLEY** : But you couldn’t give yourself an actual office?

 **ERIC** : This is an actual office! It’s what the humans call an open-plan office.

Crowley looks around the bandstand slowly, for dramatic effect. Display cases dot the floor. The two chairs and desk are the only furniture. He looks back at Eric.

 **CROWLEY** : (flatly) No, it’s not. (then) But I guess that means you’re not human.

 **ERIC** : (calmly) No, I’m not. I’m an architect.

He checks his clipboard and rallies. 

**ERIC** : (cont'd) Now! You’re going to have 6,208 more questions.

 **CROWLEY** : What all is on that clipboard?!

Eric ignores him. 

**ERIC** : But for now, let’s take a walk.

Eric stands. Crowley mirrors him reluctantly.

 **CROWLEY** : Did I have a purse with me? (then immediately) Nope, I’m “dead.” Right.

* * *

EXT. BEAUTIFUL GARDEN - STILL MORNING

Eric and Crowley stroll down a beautifully manicured path. Behind them, the profile of the giant apple tree looms. Behind it, a stone wall stretches, apparently endlessly, in both directions.

 **CROWLEY** : So, you said I’m dead. How did I die? I don’t remember.

Eric jumps slightly at being addressed. 

**ERIC** : Yes, um, in cases of traumatic or embarrassing deaths, we erase the memory to allow for a peaceful transition. Are you sure you want to hear?

 **CROWLEY** : Shouldn’t you know that already? Must be on that clipboard of yours, right?

Eric flips through the papers on his clipboard, looking very worried. Crowley takes pity on him.

 **CROWLEY** : ‘S okay. We can do that one later. (then) But if I am dead, then this must be the afterlife, right?

 **ERIC** : (relieved) Right.

Crowley looks around at all of the trees and flowers. 

**CROWLEY** : I’m guessing this is some sort of medium place? Like, the Asphodel Meadows, but with more decoration?

 **ERIC** : (shocked) No! No, this is the Good Place. Or, at least, part of it. 

Crowley looks at him sardonically.

 **CROWLEY** : You sure about that?

 **ERIC** : Yes! I designed this neighbourhood, remember? It’s a Good Place neighbourhood! And I’m a Good Place architect.

Crowley is not convinced. 

**CROWLEY** : Right. So what’s that mean for me, then? Do I live in this neighbourhood-- 

He makes a show of looking around again. 

**CROWLEY** : (cont'd) --forever? Don’t see many neighbours.

 **ERIC** : There are neighbours! (then calmly, as if he’s reciting something) The Good Place is divided into distinct “neighbourhoods,” each one containing exactly 322 people.

 **CROWLEY** : Why 322?

 **ERIC** : (waving it off) It’s just-- it’s the perfect number of people, trust me, we’re omniscient.

 **CROWLEY** : Right.

Eric ignores his disbelief. 

**ERIC** : There are thousands of neighbourhoods, and each neighbourhood is a unique, flawless system. 

**CROWLEY** : So not all neighbourhoods look like this?

 **ERIC** : No, each neighbourhood is precisely designed and calibrated for its residents. Some have warm weather, some cold. Some are cities, some farmland.

 **CROWLEY** : (dryly) And some are giant apple trees located in the middle of nowhere?

 **ERIC** : No! Well, _yes_ , this one does have an apple tree, but it isn’t in the middle of nowhere! It’s just towards the edge of the neighbourhood. We’ll keep following this path, see, and before you know it, we’ll reach town.

 **CROWLEY** : (grumbles under his breath) I didn’t expect paradise to require this much walking. (a beat) So, the neighbourhood’s got borders then? Is that what the wall’s for?

 **ERIC** : (a bit excited to be able to agree) Exactly! The neighbourhood stretches for miles, and the wall lets you know where the borders are.

The town finally comes into sight of the shot. Crowley makes a mental note never to revisit the apple tree on a lark.

 **CROWLEY** : Why does the neighbourhood have borders, though? Is it even possible to leave it?

Eric grins a bit too widely.

 **ERIC** : Of course it is!

As he speaks, they step into the town proper. There are several, prominently placed frozen youghurt shops. Their bright, cheerful colours make Crowley miss his sunglasses.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) But why would you ever want to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I plan to update on Tuesdays.


	2. Welcome. Everything is Fine. (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale meet. There is an alien angel clown painting.

INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT - LATER THAT SAME MORNING 

ERIC and CROWLEY stand in Crowley’s flat. It is spacious, white, and lit with spotlights. Crowley hates it immensely.

Eric is demonstrating how to use the refrigerator. Crowley absently notes that it doesn’t appear to be plugged in.

 **ERIC** : So, you just open this door, and your fridge chooses your breakfast for you.

He demonstrates by opening the door. The inside of the fridge is almost painfully bright and bare except for a steaming Costa cup.

Crowley blinks at the disposable cup, bothered by how strongly he finds himself emphasizing with it. They’ve both been placed in a big, white box without their consent.

Scowling, he grabs the cup and gulps down a mouthful of too hot liquid. He suppresses a grimace at the black coffee’s bitterness out of habit and swallows another mouthful to prove his point.

 **ERIC** : (cheerfully oblivious to Crowley’s thoughts) You don’t even have to decide! It just knows what you want. And for all of your other requests--

Eric looks slightly to the left.

 **ERIC** : (cont'd) Anathema?

A pleasant CHIME sounds, and ANATHEMA suddenly appears.

 **ANATHEMA** : Hi, there!

Crowley jumps, hissing unintelligibly. Eric chuckles.

 **ERIC** : Anathema knows the answers to all the questions in the universe. Ask her anything.

 **CROWLEY** : (sharply, as if to erase the fact that he had jumped) Why? Can’t you just give her your clipboard?

Eric smiles good-naturedly and dutifully consults his clipboard.

 **ERIC** : Alright. Anathema, what’s the biggest fish?

 **ANATHEMA** : The whale shark.

Crowley does his best not to look pleased. Eric notices anyway. Anathema’s smiling expression does not change.

 **ERIC** : Thank you, Anathema.

The same CHIME sounds, and Anathema disappears.

 **CROWLEY** : So, Anathema’s like a teleporting assistant?

Eric nods.

 **CROWLEY** : Suppose she’s not human either?

Eric chuckles.

 **ERIC** : Oh, no. All Anathemas are neither human nor architect. They’re Anathemas.

 **CROWLEY** : (dryly) Right. (a beat) But you’re an architect?

Eric nods again.

 **CROWLEY** : So are you, like… are you “God?” (adds quickly) Because I thought you’d be taller.

Eric’s eyes widen.

 **ERIC** : No, no. There are many levels above me, before you get to the Supreme Commander Zortraxx, the Almighty Lizard God Who Rules Us All.

Crowley looks at him. Eric laughs.

 **ERIC** : I’m just kidding, it’s not a giant lizard.

 **CROWLEY** : Right.

 **ERIC** : That’s my little joke. But no, I’m just a sort of… helper, I guess you could say. My job was to design this neighbourhood.

Crowley cuts him off.

 **CROWLEY** : You’ve mentioned. Anyway, back to Anathema. How does she know when to appear? And why doesn’t she appear whenever we say her name? Is she always listening?

Eric looks at his watch. Crowley intuitively doubts that he needs it to know the time.

 **ERIC** : I’m sorry, Anthony. I need to go welcome some more residents. If you have any more questions, just ask Anathema.

He walks out the front door, then pokes his head back into the flat.

 **ERIC** : Oh, and in an hour, meet me at the little house that looks like a face.

He grins. Crowley has a sudden urge to bite him.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) There’s someone I know you’ll want to meet. His name is Aziraphale.

INT. AZIRAPHALE’S HOUSE - EVEN LATER THAT SAME MORNING 

Eric and AZIRAPHALE stand in Aziraphale’s house. It’s small and virtually undecorated, all clean lines and right angles. All of the walls are made concrete.

 **ERIC** : As you can see, the interior has been decorated just as you like…

He gestures to a painting, which has the honour of being the only wall decoration.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) -- and obviously you love alien angel clowns! If you loved sailing, this would be a painting of sailboats.

Aziraphale looks at the alien angel clown painting with poorly disguised distaste. He forces a smile as Eric turns to look at him. Eric also smiles.

A KNOCK on the door --

 **ERIC** : (without looking at his watch) Great, right on time! (calling out) Come in, Anthony!

Crowley walks in, eyes scanning the house warily. He falters almost imperceptibly as he catches sight of the alien angel clown painting.

 **CROWLEY** : (flatly) It’s Crowley.

 **ERIC** : (not at all sorry) Right, sorry! I’ll get it eventually. It’s just not a very common name, is it? Difficult to remember. (a beat) Alright, --

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (interrupting) I don’t think it’s at all difficult to remember.

Eric and Crowley stare at him, each caught off guard. Crowley’s eyes shine with interest for the first time during the scene.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) It’s shorter than my name and likely more common, and you don’t seem to have any difficulty remembering that.

Aziraphale makes eye contact with Crowley and abruptly realizes how firmly he is speaking.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (to Crowley, much more anxiously) It’s Aziraphale, by the way. My name, that is.

His hands flutter. Then, he extends one towards Crowley.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Pleasure to meet you!

 **CROWLEY** : Crowley.

He slowly reaches out to accept Aziraphale’s hand. They shake hands.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) Likewise.

There’s a beat before they let go. Each seems to be suppressing a shy smile. Crowley clears his throat to break the moment.

 **CROWLEY** : Right. (to Eric) So, why are we both here?

Eric smiles.

 **ERIC** : You two are soulmates, and you will spend eternity together.

Aziraphale’s eyes widen. Crowley scowls. Eric ignores their reactions.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) Now, I have other people to attend to, so I’ll let you two get acquainted. Happy eternity!

He walks out of the house, closing the door behind him.

 **CROWLEY** : (a bit faintly) Right.

He sits down on the sofa. Aziraphale gingerly mirrors him.

 **CROWLEY** : (calling out) Anathema!

A CHIME sounds and Anathema appears.

 **ANATHEMA** : Hi, there!

Aziraphale jumps.

 **ANATHEMA** : (cont’d) How can I help you?

 **CROWLEY** : (to Aziraphale) Sorry, this is Anathema. She’s like an all-knowing personal assistant for everyone in the neighbourhood.

 **CROWLEY** : (to Anathema) This is Aziraphale.

 **ANATHEMA** : (pleasantly) I know. (then) It’s nice to meet you, Aziraphale.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (rallying) Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you as well.

 **CROWLEY** : Anathema, is there anyone else listening to us right now?

 **ANATHEMA** : No.

 **CROWLEY** : Great, will you let me know as soon as that changes?

 **ANATHEMA** : Okay.

 **CROWLEY** : Cool. (to Aziraphale) Did you want to ask her a question?

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Oh, I, I’m afraid I wouldn’t know where to begin. Perhaps later?

 **ANATHEMA** : Okay. (to Crowley) Anything else?

 **CROWLEY** : Nope.

He gives a little wave of his fingers.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) Stay cool.

Anathema exits. Aziraphale and Crowley shift on the sofa to look at each other. They speak at the same time.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : I --

 **CROWLEY** : So that --

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) My apologies --

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) Sorry --

They each fall silent. A beat. Then, Aziraphale smiles and waves a hand.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Go ahead.

Crowley hesitates, then sniffs.

 **CROWLEY** : (seriously) I have to tell you something important. Something is very wrong here.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (slowly) That, my dear fellow, is precisely what I was planning to tell you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Alien-Angel-Clown/97504/3081398/view) is one source of inspiration for the alien angel clown painting. However, it's also much more skilled than anything I could paint, so I don't mean to criticize it in any way. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! The next update will be on Tuesday. :)


	3. Welcome. Everything is Fine. (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley start a discourse and attend a party.

INT. AZIRAPHALE’S HOUSE - LATER

Aziraphale sits on the sofa, forehead wrinkled with worry. Crowley stands up to pace.

 **CROWLEY** : So, let me get this straight. You’re worried that you don’t belong here, and you think you were let in by accident. Because you’ve done too many bad things?

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (fretfully) Well, that’s not exactly -- I suppose that’s the general idea.

 **CROWLEY** : (sharply) Bollocks.

Aziraphale straightens his spine so that he is no longer curling in on himself.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : I beg your pardon. 

Crowley continues to pace around.

 **CROWLEY** : (just as firmly) I said bollocks. Utter tosh.

He stops in front of Aziraphale, looking him directly in the eye.

 **CROWLEY** : You’re talking rubbish. Aziraphale --

He begins to reach for his hands, then thinks better of it.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) You’re not the problem here. The problem is: this isn’t the Good Place.

INT. AZIRAPHALE’S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Aziraphale’s mind races; he is confused and still very worried. Crowley looks intently at Aziraphale, willing him to believe him.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : What do you mean, this isn’t the Good Place?

 **CROWLEY** : This isn’t paradise. It can’t be. I don’t know what it is or why we’re here, but this place --

He waves gestures around wildly.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) -- is too forked up to be good.

He tilts his head.

 **CROWLEY** : Why can’t I say fork? Fork!

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Perhaps swearing isn’t permitted? Since this is the Good Place?

 **CROWLEY** : (stubbornly) Fork. Fork, fork, fork, fork. Shirt.

He refocuses on Aziraphale.

 **CROWLEY** : No. Can’t be. Come on, Aziraphale, think. What did Eric call me, when I first came in?

Aziraphale hesitates.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : I don’t know if I should say.

 **CROWLEY** : (excitedly) Right! Because you’re clever and you actually care about other people. I always go by Crowley. Don’t you think a person, or a being, who designed the perfect neighbourhood for me would know that?

Aziraphale is not convinced.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : But surely Eric is still capable of mistakes? He does have several hundred residents whom he’s meeting all at once.

 **CROWLEY** : Earlier today, he told me he was omniscient! Just because I asked why neighbourhoods always have 322 people in them.

Aziraphale considers this.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Well, maybe he knows everything, but he isn’t able to recall it quickly. That would be quite a lot to know.

Crowley splutters.

 **CROWLEY** : Yeah, sure, but that’s not my point! Loads of things about this place are wrong!

He begins to circle the room.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) Like, look at this place! Don’t tell me this is your dream home. 

He points at the alien angel clown painting.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) You seem like a decent person. Look me in the eyes, and convince me you love this painting.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (politely) Well… no, I don’t. (then) But that could be explained by the fact that I don’t belong here.

 **CROWLEY** : Argh! (a beat) Okay, listen: it’s not just your house. My flat’s horrible too. --

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (reflexively) I’m so sorry to hear it.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) What’s more likely? That both of our houses turn out horribly, or that this place is not actually intended to make us happy for all of eternity?

Aziraphale weighs the ideas.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (apologetically) My being here might have altered your house as well? Since we aren’t actually soulmates?

Crowley coughs, then quickly waves off Aziraphale’s concern.

 **CROWLEY** : You’re so clever. Some part of you has to know this isn’t right.

CHIME. Anathema appears before Aziraphale can respond.

 **ANATHEMA** : Hi, there! Eric is approaching and will soon be within hearing range.

CHIME. She disappears.

 **CROWLEY** : (hurriedly) Alright, so we can talk more later, but for now, neither of us tells Eric anything. Right?

Aziraphale wrings his hands.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : I don’t know. What if things get even worse the longer I’m here?

 **CROWLEY** : (urgently) Aziraphale, Eric told me he can alter our memories. We cannot let on that we know something’s wrong.

He notices that what he’s saying is not effective and changes approaches accordingly. He gently takes both of Aziraphale’s hands in his and smiles.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) Come on, think of it this way: if we’re here for eternity, waiting a little longer won’t hurt anything permanently. We can use it to collect more evidence, think it over, talk it out.

There’s a KNOCK on the door.

 **CROWLEY** : (calling out) Just a mo! (softly, to Aziraphale) Please.

The door opens. Eric walks in.

 **ERIC** : Awesome! I see you two lovebirds have hit it off!

MARY HODGES hesitantly trails him.

 **MARY** : Hello! Sorry to break up an intimate moment.

 **ERIC** : (officiously) Anthony, Aziraphale, this is Mary. She and her soulmate are your next door neighbours!

 **CROWLEY** : It’s Crowley.

They all shake hands.

 **ERIC** : Mary and her soulmate are having a little “welcome” party tonight, and they’ve invited the entire neighbourhood.

 **MARY** : I excel at event planning. Can I expect to see you tonight?

 **CROWLEY** : (covering) Of course! Great! Can’t miss it if the whole neighbourhood’s going.

He nudges Aziraphale.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : We look forward to it. Thank you so much for the invitation.

INT. MARY’S MANOR - NEIGHBOURHOOD MIXER - NIGHT

We walk in BEHIND Aziraphale and Crowley, now dressed for a cocktail party. Groups of people chat amiably.

Crowley scoffs.

 **CROWLEY** : No way. My entire flat could fit in this room.

He turns to Aziraphale.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) Your entire house could. And you still think this is --

He catches himself.

 **CROWLEY** : You still think you’re right? This is greed, this is. Has to be.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : It is rather… large.

INDISTINCT CHATTER as they walk further into the room.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) But Mary did say she loves to entertain. Her house could support my… theory.

Crowley makes an incredulous noise. Aziraphale does not hear it. He stands frozen, staring at a food counter which has just come into view. His face lights up.

Crowley glances at Aziraphale and also freezes.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (reverently) They’re serving Edomae sushi.

Crowley’s face visibly softens. He stares, arrested by how happy Aziraphale is. He tries to cover it with his tone of voice.

 **CROWLEY** : (casually) Well, we’d better go get some then.

Aziraphale hums and heads for the counter. Crowley walks beside him, grinning. 

INT. MARY’S MANOR - LATER 

Eric CLINKS his glass and everyone quiets down. Aziraphale’s demeanor immediately changes from happy and relaxed to nervous and guilty. Crowley finds that he has another reason to dislike Eric.

 **ERIC** : Thank you, thank you. You all know that I am the architect of this neighbourhood. But what you don’t know is…

He trails and lowers his voice.

 **ERIC** : (to himself) Golly, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but, oh, what the heck?

 **ERIC** : (to the crowd) This is actually the very first neighbourhood that I have ever designed. I’d been an apprentice for over 200 years, and my supervisor has finally given me my first solo project.

He gestures around him. There are MURMURS and APPLAUSE.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) For that reason, it’s very special to me, and I want it to be perfect. You deserve a perfect world. Because you are all good people! (beat) That’s it for me. Back to you, Mary.

 **MARY** : Bravo, Eric, bravo!

 **ERIC** : Thank you.

 **MARY** : (cont’d) And I would just like to quickly say if any of you would like to play paintball tonight, we have 36 regulation paintball fields. (then) Such fun. Cheers!

APPLAUSE.

 **CROWLEY** : (sing-song) Greed.

Aziraphale wrings his hands. Crowley looks at him and frowns, itching to fix this.

 **CROWLEY** : I’m knackered. Ready to go home?

Aziraphale smiles.

INT. AZIRAPHALE’S HOUSE - NIGHT 

Aziraphale and Crowley enter. They instinctively sit down together on the sofa.

Crowley opens his mouth. Aziraphale speaks first.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : I was wondering -- that is to say, if it’s alright with you, might we wait until tomorrow to continue our debate?

Crowley agrees quickly, relieved.

 **CROWLEY** : Yeah, ‘course. (a beat) So, I’ll leave you to it, then. ‘S getting late.

He goes to stand up. Aziraphale reaches out to stop him, but doesn’t actually touch him. Crowley looks at him, his eyes wide.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : You don’t have to leave just yet. I mean, you, we could…

He trails off. Crowley waits patiently.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) Never mind. I’m sure you’re eager to have some time to yourself.

Aziraphale stands up. Crowley makes a small NOISE which could indicate disagreement, but stands up as well.

By unspoken agreement, Aziraphale walks him to the door. They linger.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (tentatively) Until tomorrow?

Crowley nods.

 **CROWLEY** : Good night, Aziraphale.

Crowley exits. Aziraphale remains standing by the door until the end of the shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I will update again on Tuesday.


	4. Welcome. Everything is Fine. (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale frets. Crowley protecc.

INT. AZIRAPHALE’S HOUSE - NEXT MORNING

Aziraphale lies in bed, asleep. There is a flash of lightning and a CRASH of thunder. He startles awake.

Birds CAW. More thunder CRASHES.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Oh dear.

He rises out of bed and hurries to look out of a large circular window. Outside, the WHOLE WORLD has gone HAYWIRE.

EXT. AZIRAPHALE’S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER

Crowley runs through the shot, towards Aziraphale’s house. Around him, the neighbourhood is in CHAOS. TREES are UPSIDE-DOWN or TWISTED INTO PRETZELS. In the sky, jagged SLASHES of VIOLET LIGHTNING criss-cross in every direction.

Vaguely eerie MUSIC begins, in sync with the lightning strikes.

> _Climb every mountain_
> 
> _Search high and low_
> 
> _Follow every byway_
> 
> _Every path you know_

PEOPLE mill around, confused. Everyone’s CLOTHES are now BLUE and YELLOW STRIPES. Eric stumbles around, trying to restore order.

 **ERIC** : Remain calm! Everyone just remain calm!

> _Climb every mountain_
> 
> _Ford every stream_
> 
> _Follow every rainbow_
> 
> _Till you find your dream_

As the word “rainbow” plays, a FISH falls out of the sky and hits Eric on the head. He stares at where it has landed on the ground.

A beat. On the word "dream," it begins to RAIN FISH.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) Okay, go ahead and panic, everyone! Panic and flee to safety!

He RUNS OFF. Crowley rushes into Aziraphale’s house.

> _A dream that will need_
> 
> _All the love you can give_
> 
> _Every day of your life_
> 
> _For as long as you live_

INT. AZIRAPHALE’S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Crowley runs in.

 **CROWLEY** : Aziraphale!

Aziraphale rushes to meet him.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Crowley! What is happening? Are you alright?

Crowley is breathing heavily, but relaxes now that he has found Aziraphale.

 **CROWLEY** : Yeah! ‘M fine, don’t worry!

He rushes over to a window and growls when he finds that it doesn’t have any drapes.

 **CROWLEY** : Just, don’t go outside, alright? Stay in here, where it’s safe.

He circles back to stand near Aziraphale.

 **CROWLEY** : I’ll stay with you.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Safe from what?

Crowley abruptly notices that Aziraphale is dressed in an old-fashioned, white, ankle-length nightgown. He SPLUTTERS.

 **CROWLEY** : (rallying) Nothing, nothing! Fish and lightning, mostly. Very biblical, if you ask me.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (distractedly) Yes, I had noticed that.

He pauses, taking a deep breath. Crowley shoots him a look that says not to go there. Aziraphale says it anyway.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) Crowley, this is all happening because of me -- 

**CROWLEY** : (loudly) No! No!

Aziraphale continues, raising his voice to be heard.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) I don’t belong here, and I’m ruining it for everyone who does. I must confess to Eric. Immediately.

Crowley tries a smoother approach.

 **CROWLEY** : (slowly) Okay, okay. We don’t know this is because of you.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : But we do! I ate too much of the sushi, and now it’s raining fish. --

 **CROWLEY** : -- Hang on, I told you. I didn’t want any, so I let you eat my share. It was fine. --

 **AZIRAPHALE** : -- Violet is my least favorite colour, and now there’s purple lightning everywhere. --

 **CROWLEY** : -- No one good likes violet! It’s a horrible colour. --

 **AZIRAPHALE** : -- And when I was a child, I hid my family’s Beta videocasettes of _The Sound of Music_ in our bin.

Crowley snorts.

 **CROWLEY** : Aziraphale, it sounds like you were doing your family a favour.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (wails) But I wasn’t! I was only acting in my own self-interest. Everyone in my family loved _The Sound of Music_. They were all so disappointed when our copy went missing, and I never confessed. I tried to find a replacement, but by then, they had stopped selling it for Betamax.

 **CROWLEY** : (seriously) Aziraphale. Listen to me. This isn’t your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong; they’re messing with us for the heck of it. This is not the Good Place.

Aziraphale looks at him, wanting to be convinced in spite of himself.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : How can you believe that, after everything that has happened?

 **CROWLEY** : Do you remember when you first told me you didn’t deserve to be here?

Aziraphale nods.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) I’d said that I had something important to say too, but you made me let you go first. Do you remember why you did that?

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Because if I’m here by mistake, I can’t be your soulmate. And I didn’t want you to tell me anything you were intending to share with them.

 **CROWLEY** : Right. That’s how I know. Even when you thought you were about to lose everything, you took the time to look out for someone you had just met. You --

He is interrupted by a KNOCK on the door.

 **ERIC** : (out of sight) Hey, guys! Uh, emergency neighbourhood meeting, now!

 **CROWLEY** : (covering) We’ll be right there, Eric!

He waits for him to walk away.

 **CROWLEY** : Anathema!

CHIME. Anathema appears, wearing BLUE and YELLOW STRIPES.

 **ANATHEMA** : Hi, there!

Aziraphale startles.

 **CROWLEY** : (quickly) Anathema, remind me, can anyone access what we say to you?

 **ANATHEMA** : No, it is 100% confidential. No one can access what you ask me, including Eric. (a beat) Now, what kind of pornography would you like to see?

Crowley SPLUTTERS and faintly BLUSHES.

 **CROWLEY** : No, no, no, no porn! (then) We, Aziraphale needs clothes like ours. With stripes.

DING. Anathema holds the requested clothes.

 **ANATHEMA** : There you go.

Crowley takes them.

 **CROWLEY** : Thanks, Anathema! Ciao.

CHIME. Anathema disappears. Crowley turns to give the clothes to Aziraphale.

 **CROWLEY** : Here, put this on. Quickly!

Aziraphale does not take the clothes.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : I’m not changing into that. I have standards!

A beat. He backpedals.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Not that there is anything wrong with what you are wearing, dear boy. I just feel that --

Crowley interrupts him.

 **CROWLEY** : (quickly) No, no, you’re right. It’s hideous. But everyone else is dressed like this. If you don’t change, we’re forked.

Aziraphale sighs, but takes the clothes.

EXT. MAIN SQUARE - LATER 

A smallish PUBLIC SQUARE, with a STAGE. PEOPLE mill around, WHISPERING nervously. Aziraphale and Crowley sit down on two of the many CHAIRS as Eric walks on the STAGE.

 **ERIC** : Everybody, everybody! Uh, gather round, please. Thank you, thank you. (beat) Obviously, there’s something very wrong with this neighbourhood. We don’t know what it is, how long it will last, or what caused it. (then) What do we know, Anathema?

In the crowd, Aziraphale takes Crowley’s hand in both of his.

 **ANATHEMA** : (pleasantly) We know where it happened. Here.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (whispers, to Crowley) Thank you.

 **ERIC** : Yes, thank you, Anathema! The chaos happened here.

Crowley realises what is going to happen a half-second too late. Aziraphale stands up.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Er, yes, hello.

He straightens his shoulders. Crowley scrambles to stop him.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) Eric, Anathema, the problem in the neighbourhood is me.

The crowd GASPS. Crowley stands up beside Aziraphale, prepared to grab him and leg it.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) I was brought to the Good Place by mistake. I’m not supposed to be here.

DRAMATIC MUSIC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I may not update next Tuesday, but if I don't, I will update the following Tuesday. I hope you have a lovely week!


	5. Welcome. Everything is Great! (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric is so done. Sergeant Shadwell is recruited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief homophobia à la Shadwell. 
> 
> Also, I have been picturing Shadwell as a middle-aged man from Florida, but you may interpret him how you choose. (I also have no idea how people in Florida actually talk, so I apologize for any inaccurate vernacular.)

EXT. MAIN SQUARE - CONTINUOUS 

Aziraphale and Crowley stand among the seated CROWD of residents.

_AZIRAPHALE: (cont’d, repeated from the previous episode) -- I’m not supposed to be here._

**CROWLEY** : Hold on!

He leaps onto his chair and gestures grandly, drawing the crowd’s attention.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) Before anything’s decided, there’s something you should know. This is not the Good Place.

Another GASP from the crowd. People WHISPER anxiously and look at Eric for guidance. Crowley interprets this as a good sign.

 **CROWLEY** : That’s right! I don’t know what this place is, but it isn’t what Eric says.

ERIC: (calmly) Alright, that’s… two possible theories. (then) Aziraphale, why do you think you don’t deserve to be here?

Aziraphale starts to answer. Crowley quickly gestures at him to shush.

 **CROWLEY** : (to Aziraphale) No! Nope. My turn to go first. Fair’s fair.

He raises his voice to speak to Eric and the assembled residents.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) Think of it this way. If this is paradise, why’re all the houses so terrible? I bloody hate my flat, and Aziraphale’s has a painting of a demented clown innit.

He points at Mary.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) You there, Mary! What d’you need 36 paintball fields for? Is that really a feature of your dream home?

 **MARY** : (thoughtfully) Well, no.

More INDISTINCT WHISPERING in the crowd. Things are getting out of hand.

 **CROWLEY** : See! Once is a mistake; twice is a coincidence; but three times? Three times is, is damning, that’s what it is!

He looks Eric in the eyes. Eric stares back at him, a picture of solicitous concern.

 **CROWLEY** : Eric knows exactly what’s wrong with this place! And it isn’t Aziraphale.

A beat. Then, Eric LAUGHS evilly, breaking character.

 **ERIC** : (groans) Oh, man! I can’t believe you figured it out.

He continues to laugh.

 **ERIC** : Oh, Satan! I was so close to pulling it off!

Crowley makes a disbelieving NOISE. Eric ignores him.

 **ERIC** : Y-you ruined everything, you know that? Oh, man. Crowley, you really suck!

 **MARY** : Sorry. So he’s right?

 **ERIC** : (casually) Yeah, he figured it out.

He grows bored of repeating himself and SNAPS.

MONTAGE - INT. ERIC’S OFFICE - MORNING

Eric sits behind his desk. Aziraphale sits in the chair across from him.

 **ERIC** : You, Aziraphale Upwright, are dead.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Oh, dear.

EXT. NEIGHBOURHOOD - MONTAGE CONT’D 

Aziraphale and Eric walk past a frozen youghurt shop as Eric plays tour guide.

 **ERIC** : Each neighbourhood is a unique, flawless system.

EXT. NEIGHBOURHOOD - MONTAGE CONT’D 

Eric continues to tell Aziraphale about the neighbourhood. They approach an intersection, then stop.

 **ERIC** : Again, it’s an incredibly selective system. Most people don’t make it here. But you, Aziraphale, you’re special. (then) And by the way, welcome to your new home.

They are in front of a BOOKSHOP. Aziraphale’s entire demeanour lights up.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Oh, oh, thank you.

Eric steps forward to unlock the door, then gestures Aziraphale in.

INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP - MOMENTS LATER 

Eric and Aziraphale walk into the bookshop. It’s crammed FULL of BOOKS and slightly DUSTY. LIGHT streams down through an OCULUS.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (softly) It’s lovely. (then, to Eric) I’ve always wanted to own a bookshop.

 **ERIC** : (pleasantly) I know. In the Good Place, every person gets to live in a home that perfectly matches his or her true essence.

A beat.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) And this is the Good Place!

He chuckles. Aziraphale longs to explore the shop and its contents.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (absent-mindedly) Quite.

As he inches closer to the nearest shelf, there is a KNOCK on the front door.

GABRIEL walks in -- handsome, athletic, over 6 foot tall, and somehow blaringly performative. 

**GABRIEL** : Hi, pal. I’m your soulmate.

INT. ERIC’S OFFICE - EARLIER 

Eric sits behind his desk. SHADWELL sits across from him.

 **ERIC** : You --

He pauses, frowning at his clipboard. He starts again.

 **ERIC** : You, Mr. Shadwell, are dead.

SHADWELL: No, man! You’re dead, if you don’t release me!

Eric is caught off-guard.

 **ERIC** : Er --

SHADWELL: I have friends in high places, I’m telling you that now! Higher than you’ve ever heard of, I reckon. And if you don’t let me go right now, they’ll come looking for me.

Eric consults his notes, ignoring Shadwell.

SHADWELL: (cont’d) Oh, they’ll come looking. Looking for you, and then you’ll be sorry!

Eric cuts him off.

 **ERIC** : (seriously) I understand. (then) Mr. Shadwell, my sources tell me that you are a man with a very… rare skillset. I believe that my town is in need of your services.

Shadwell becomes more aggravated.

SHADWELL: No way! I ain’t gonna service you or any other nancy in this town. Now --

Eric cuts him off.

 **ERIC** : You misunderstand me, Mr. Sergeant.

He corrects himself.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) Sergeant Shadwell. We are in need of someone with distinguished witch-finding skills. You see --

He lowers his voice, leaning in closer. Shadwell begins to lean in closer, then catches himself and straightens.

 **ERIC** : (cont'd) -- we have reason to believe that there is a total of two witches living somewhere in our town. And we need someone dependable, someone perceptive and relentless -- someone such as yourself -- to help us.

He leans back, satisfied that he has captured Shadwell’s interest.

 **ERIC** : Save us, Sergeant Shadwell. Protect us from the forces of darkness. You are our only hope.

Shadwell tries to mask his excitement.

SHADWELL: (drawling) Well… witches don’t just find themselves. (a beat) How much do you plan to pay such a good, hard-working witchfinder?

 **ERIC** : Free room and board and the support of a personal assistant for as long as it takes you to locate the two witches. (a beat) And, a lifetime supply of pins once you have successfully found both of them.

Shadwell leans across the desk to shake hands.

SHADWELL: Throw in the pins starting now, Mr. Eric, and we have a deal.

EXT. NEIGHBOURHOOD - LATER

Eric and Shadwell walk through a neighbourhood. Shadwell walks in a circuitous path, constantly turning to keep whomever they pass within his line of sight. Eric gives his usual introductory spiel.

 **ERIC** : -- every blade of grass, every ladybug --

SHADWELL: Ladybugs don’t matter, man! Now, cats --

EXT. SHADWELL’S HOUSE - LATER

A single-wide mobile home sits, isolated from all of the other buildings of the neighbourhood. It is small and a bit dirty, but appears to be well-made.

Eric exits, harried. Shadwell follows on his heels.

 **ERIC** : (reasonably) Now, Mr. Shadwell. Surely you would like some time to settle into your new base of operations before beginning your mission?

SHADWELL: (loudly) A witchfinder is always ready to find witches! (more quietly, to Eric) Besides, right now, you’re the only one I don’t suspect of being a witch. You should let me stay with you. To protect you!

 **ERIC** : I appreciate the offer, Sergeant, but --

He gives up.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) Oh, fork it! Anathema!

CHIME. Anathema appears.

 **ANATHEMA** : Hi, there!

Shadwell does not take her sudden appearance well. While he is occupied with shouting at her, Eric sneaks away.

EXT. NEIGHBOURHOOD - LATER

Shadwell prowls the neighbourhood, looking for witches. He carries a bell, book, candle, and trusty Witchfinder Army-issued pin.

A black cat walks into the shot. Shadwell jumps, dropping all of his supplies. Then, he leaps into action and kicks the cat.

The cat flies up, up, up. The shot follows its trajectory until it collides with the sun.

Shadwell’s mouth drops open. He looks from side-to-side to check whether anyone else witnessed the kick, then stares down at his foot in horror.

A beat.

DAGON, another resident, walks into the shot.

DAGON: Leo? Leo?

She stops to stand by Shadwell.

DAGON: Excuse me. Have you seen a black cat?

Shadwell rallies quickly. He studies her suspiciously: she is wearing a black shirt, and he counts it against her.

SHADWELL: What’s your name?

EXT. NEIGHBOURHOOD - LATER

Shadwell continues to patrol the neighbourhood, WHISTLING cheerfully.

He sees Gabriel power-walk into Aziraphale’s bookshop and deems it dodgy. He follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I will update one or two weeks from today.


	6. Welcome. Everything is Great! (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale suffers a series of indignities.

INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP - RETURNING TO THE PRESENT

**GABRIEL:** (repeated) _Hi pal, I’m your soulmate._

Although the door is unlocked, Shadwell bursts into the room with a bang. Aziraphale, Eric, and Gabriel stare at him in surprise. 

Shadwell walks further into the room and kicks Aziraphale, hard, in the shin. Aziraphale yelps.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Ow!

Shadwell studies him dubiously.

 **SHADWELL** : (mutters) Does not appear to be in league with the witches.

Eric recovers.

 **ERIC** : Ah, Sergeant Shadwell! Come to report on your --

He pauses to think of a suitably vague word.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) -- progress so soon?

 **SHADWELL** : Yessir! There are many signs of wickedness in this town!

Eric hastily interrupts his rant.

 **ERIC** : Let’s relocate for this conversation. We wouldn’t want to bore Aziraphale and Gabriel with our work.

Shadwell considers this statement, then nods vigorously.

 **SHADWELL** : Sure, dude! That makes sense.

He mimes zipping his lips, then whispers loudly.

 **SHADWELL** : The guy in joggers seems very suspicious. BIG potential for evil in that one.

He gives Gabriel a dirty look. Eric mouths “SORRY” to Aziraphale and Gabriel.

 **ERIC** : Er, right.

He begins to guide Shadwell towards the door.

 **ERIC** : I’ll just leave you two to get to know each other.

Eric and Shadwell exit.

Aziraphale gives Gabriel a nervous smile.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Er, are you acquainted with that man?

A beat.

 **GABRIEL** : Nope.

Another beat. Aziraphale fidgets.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Well, his reaction was a bit odd.

Gabriel doesn’t respond.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (belatedly cont’d) Wasn’t it?

 **GABRIEL** : All humans are weird, bud.

Aziraphale forces a CHUCKLE.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : That’s true. I’m sure many people might think the same thing of me.

The awkward silence continues to build.

Aziraphale takes a deep breath, then steps a little closer to Gabriel.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Gabriel, I need to tell you something very important.

 **GABRIEL** : Hold that thought.

He takes off his sweatshirt to reveal his very muscular torso.

 **GABRIEL** : (cont’d) Is it okay if I go work out?

He walks towards the door without waiting for Aziraphale’s response.

 **GABRIEL** : (cont’d) I gotta stay jacked. It’s who I am.

Gabriel exits. Aziraphale stands in the bookshop, completely alone.

INT. MARY’S MANOR - NEIGHBOURHOOD MIXER - NIGHT 

Aziraphale and Gabriel enter, dressed for a cocktail party. The house is very large and very grand. Small GROUPS of PEOPLE mill about. INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC plays.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Well, this is… lovely.

 **GABRIEL** : (sincerely) I know, right? I wish our house was more like this. I mean, who actually needs that many books?

He leans a little closer to Aziraphale.

 **GABRIEL** : (sotto voice) Some people might get the wrong idea and think you’re a bit materialistic.

Aziraphale makes an alarmed face. Gabriel laughs.

 **GABRIEL** : I’m kidding!

He claps Aziraphale on the shoulder.

 **GABRIEL** : Gosh, lighten up, sunshine! (then) After all, you’re my soulmate, and that means you’re perfect!

Aziraphale grows more worried.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : About that… Gabriel, there’s something I need to tell you…

Gabriel interrupts him.

 **GABRIEL** : Hold that thought. I’m gonna head to the gym.

Aziraphale LAUGHS nervously. A beat.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Oh, you’re serious. Again? Right now?

 **GABRIEL** : Yeah. I’ll catch you later!

With one big motion, he rips off his jacket, dress shirt, and tie, then JOGS out of the shot.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Oh, dear.

Eric walks up to him. Aziraphale is relieved to see a familiar face.

 **ERIC** : Hi, Aziraphale! I’ve got something for you.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Oh?

He reflexively accepts the jewelry box that Eric extends to him. He swallows.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Er, Eric, I was wondering if it might be possible for me to speak with you in private? There’s something I’d like to discuss.

 **ERIC** : Sure thing, buddy! But after the party, alright?

He doesn’t give Aziraphale time to respond.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) After all, you’re the guest of honour!

 **AZIRAPHALE** : I beg your pardon?

 **ERIC** : Oh, yeah! Oops.

He CHUCKLES.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) Sorry, I think I ruined the surprise.

He gestures to the box he gave Aziraphale.

 **ERIC** : Open it.

Aziraphale removes the lid to reveal a MEDAL that says MOST IMPROVED.

 **ERIC** : Congratulations, Aziraphale!

Aziraphale gingerly picks up the medal.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Thank you.

 **ERIC** : My pleasure! It’s a tradition to honor the resident who earned the fewest points on the first night. And in this neighbourhood, that’s you!

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Oh my. What… an honour.

Eric grins.

 **ERIC** : That’s the spirit! And as such, I was hoping that you could say a few words, you know, maybe even entertain a bit? People in the Good Place always take great pleasure in encouraging those who overcame significant _ethical_ struggles.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Ah. (then) How long were you thinking I might, uh, entertain the other residents?

 **ERIC** : Oh, not long. Maybe an hour or so?

 **AZIRAPHALE** : I’d be honoured, but --

Eric interrupts him.

 **ERIC** : Wonderful! I’ll let the host know, right away! 

He starts to leave, then pauses and calls over his shoulder.

 **ERIC** : Don’t forget to wear the medal. You’ve earned it!

INT. MARY’S MANOR - LATER

Aziraphale stands in a spotlight, sweating. He is dressed like an old-fashioned magician. The MOST IMPROVED MEDAL hangs from his neck.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Does anyone here happen to have a handkerchief?

The CROWD watches him silently. They have been politely watching torturously bad magic tricks for half an hour. Aziraphale persists.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : No? (to himself) Oh, dear.

He squares his shoulders.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) Well, then. I, I will now proceed to my hat trick. Yes.

He removes his hat and holds it out to the crowd.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : Now then, do you see my hat? And see, there’s nothing in it! But bless my britches, who’s this rum customer?

He puts his hand in his hat and theatrically rummages.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : (cont’d) Why, it’s our furry friend, Harry the rabbit!

A TEN FOOT TALL FIRE SQUID emerges from the hat. The ceiling of the room is high enough to accommodate it with ease.

Aziraphale SHOUTS and jumps back. The CROWD APPLAUDS.

 **AZIRAPHALE** : No, no, I’m afraid you don’t understand. This wasn’t meant to happen.

The SQUID twists to survey the CROWD with its left eye. WHAM. It crushes an UNNAMED USHER with a lazy swing of one of its tentacles.

People realise that the SQUID is dangerous. They FLEE, SCREAMING.

 **ERIC** : (outside of the shot) Squid! Everyone out! There’s a giant fire squid!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I plan to update next Tuesday as I am eager to reintroduce Crowley.


	7. Welcome. Everything is Great! (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley endures a series of torments.

MONTAGE - INT. ERIC’S OFFICE - EARLIER

Eric sits behind his desk. Crowley sits in the chair across from him.

 **ERIC** : You, Anthony - ah, no, sorry. You, Mr. Crowley, are dead.

 **CROWLEY** : Shirt.

EXT. NEIGHBOURHOOD - MONTAGE CONT’D 

Eric and Crowley walk along a path. They are surrounded by trees with no other houses in sight.

Eric stops.

 **ERIC** : This is your new home.

The camera PANS as Crowley looks up. A small treehouse sits in the tree. Its exterior is painted in brightly coloured tie-dye, and its sole entrance consists of a trapdoor and a rope ladder.

 **CROWLEY** : Great.

INT. CROWLEY’S TREEHOUSE - MONTAGE CONT’D 

Eric shows Crowley around the treehouse. Crowley is dying on the inside.

 **ERIC** : So, this is the living room… as well as the kitchen and the bedroom.

The treehouse’s interior is also decorated with many bright colours, though it is a bit more muted than the exterior. All of the decorations and furniture are rainforest-themed and extraordinarily tacky.

Crowley surveys the room, his shoulders inching up towards his ears. A beat.

 **CROWLEY** : Cool.

Eric leads him a little further into the treehouse.

 **ERIC** : And this is your soulmate, Ligur.

LIGUR stands near a corner of the room, wearing fingerless gloves and very dirty, tie-dyed clothes. He gently holds a chameleon very close to his head.

Ligur notices Eric and Crowley enter, but ignores them. He proceeds to lick the chameleon’s eyesocket, then allows the chameleon to return the favour.

 **CROWLEY** : (very quietly to himself) Fork.

INT. MARY’S MANOR - NEIGHBOURHOOD MIXER - MONTAGE CONT’D 

Crowley and Ligur stand together at the party. Ligur’s chameleon is perched on his head with its tail wound around his neck.

Crowley immediately heads to the bar. He snatches a drink the bartender just made for another party-goer and quickly downs it. Before he can order a drink, Eric intercepts him.

 **ERIC** : Crowley, hello! You all right?

Crowley stares at him. A beat.

 **CROWLEY** : Fine.

He turns back to the bartender.

 **CROWLEY** : Largest Vesper Martini you can make. Shaken, not stirred.

 **ERIC** : You sure? This is the Good Place. If there’s anything you’d like changed, just ask.

 **CROWLEY** : Nope.

Crowley accepts his martini from the bartender and takes a large gulp. He gestures vaguely to Eric and the bartender.

 **CROWLEY** : Ta.

Crowley saunters off.

Eric begins to follow after him. Shadwell appears in the shot, also headed towards Crowley. Eric rushes to interfere.

INT. MARY’S MANOR - LATER 

Eric is speaking, but his words are muted and unclear. Crowley stands by a high top cocktail table, slouched so that his head rests on the table’s surface. Ligur also stands next to the table, looking very bored.

 **CROWLEY** : (drunkenly) I didn’t mean to die. I was just minding my own business one day --

Eric finishes speaking, and the CROWD APPLAUDS politely.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) -- and the food hadn’t been that good lately. I didn’t have anything on for the rest of the afternoon --

Mary’s voice is audible from out of the shot.

 **MARY** : Bravo, Eric, bravo! And I would just like to quickly say if any of you would like to play paintball tonight, we have 35 regulation paintball fields --

Ligur abruptly grabs Crowley and drags him up.

 **LIGUR** : We’re doing that.

Crowley’s head does not appreciate Ligur frogmarching Crowley’s body across the room. Crowley’s mouth does its best to communicate this.

 **CROWLEY** : Mmf. Bleleh.

Crowley shakes his head and promptly regrets it.

 **LIGUR** : You’re such a boring, sad little human. I don’t know what plaint-ball is, but we’re doing it.

Crowley decides to go with it. He clumsily pats Ligur’s back.

 **CROWLEY** : Gah. Love you too, soulmate.

They reach Mary whose friendly smile drops at the sight they make.

EXT. MARY’S MANOR - LATER 

The camera zooms in on one of Mary’s many lawns. As promised, there are 35 paintball fields. However, the fields are arranged in a 6x6 grid, rather than 5x7 or 7x5. Additionally, the spot which lacks a field is an interior cell of the grid. This creates a very distressing visual.

Crowley and Mary stand next to each other, watching their soulmates prowl across the 35 fields. Each bears the mark of a direct hit: Crowley with a red splatter over his heart and Mary with a yellow splatter on her proper right side.

 **CROWLEY** : Well, that went down like a lead balloon.

Mary startles.

 **MARY** : I’m sorry?

 **CROWLEY** : I said: well, that went down like a lead balloon.

Mary smiles wryly.

 **MARY** : I suppose that’s one way to describe it.

 **CROWLEY** : Would have thought you’d be a proper paintball master. With all your fields.

 **MARY** : Ah, no. I can’t really say I’m a fan.

A beat.

 **MARY** : (cont’d) More of a Pong player, if I’m being honest. Or Candy Crush.

Crowley’s head whips to look at her. He appears very excited.

 **CROWLEY** : That’s what I said! Well, what I said was, “Where can I buy a mobile?” And Eric said, “There are no phones in the Good Place, but we have frozen youghurt that tastes like batteries.” (a beat) Batteries!

Crowley and Mary laugh.

 **MARY** : But really, there aren’t any mobiles here?

 **CROWLEY** : No! No Candy Crush, either! Terrible, right?

 **MARY** : Definitely!

Crowley becomes even more excited and quickly turns in a small circle.

 **CROWLEY** : See!

He gestures at Mary.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) See, this is a normal reaction! No one else here seems to care. They all just ask what we would need a phone for, what with You-Know-Who prepared to answer all our questions. Makes you wonder what’s really going on here.

Eric enters the shot. Once he sees Crowley and Mary, he hurries towards them.

 **MARY** : (giggling) You-Know-Who? Like Voldemort?

 **CROWLEY** : No!

He leans over to whisper in her ear.

 **CROWLEY** : (whispers) Anathema-yay.

MARY repeats it audibly.

 **MARY** : Anathema, yay?

Crowley shushes her. Eric reaches them.

 **ERIC** : Ah, Mary!

He begins to try to guide her away.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) An issue has come up with tonight’s entertainment, and I was hoping we could discuss it. (a beat) In private.

Mary looks at Crowley, not wanting to be rude.

 **MARY** : Er, right now?

Crowley makes a careless gesture, suddenly appearing much more drunk. He slurs slightly.

 **CROWLEY** : Go ahead.

 **ERIC** : Lovely!

He immediately begins to shepherd Mary away.

 **ERIC** : (cont’d) Have fun with your soulmate!

He and Mary quickly disappear from the shot. Crowley is left standing alone, the sound of WHIZZING paintballs in the background.

CHIME. Anathema appears suddenly. Crowley jumps.

 **CROWLEY** : Ack!

He quickly turns to face Anathema.

 **CROWLEY** : (cont’d) I didn’t call for you.

 **ANATHEMA** : (cheerfully) I know. (then) Crowley, you need to protect Aziraphale.

 **CROWLEY** : What?! Why? Who’s Aziraphale?

Anathema’s smile falters.

 **ANATHEMA** : I don’t know.

 **CROWLEY** : You don’t know who Aziraphale is?!

 **ANATHEMA** : Oh, no. I know that. But I don’t know why you need to protect him.

Her expression puckers in thought. Then, it smooths into her usual grin.

 **ANATHEMA** : I suppose it’s up to you, really. (then) To answer your second question, Aziraphale is another resident of this neighbourhood.

Crowley eyes her suspiciously.

 **CROWLEY** : Right. So I may or may not want to protect a person I’ve never met? Who just happens to be one of the 322 people living here?

 **ANATHEMA** : Yes.

 **CROWLEY** : But you can’t tell me why I might need to protect him? And he isn’t in any danger right now?

The briefest of PAUSES as Anathema checks on Aziraphale’s welfare. The Amazing Mr. Upright appears to be mortified, but unthreatened.

 **ANATHEMA** : That is correct.

A beat.

 **CROWLEY** : Super.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! It will probably be two or three weeks before I update because I had a new idea about where I want the story to go.


	8. Welcome. Everything is Great! (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all scream for... torture! (And, thirty-nine flavours of frozen youghurt.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: In this iteration of the neighbourhood, Ligur has a total of six chameleons.

EXT. MAIN SQUARE - LATER THAT NIGHT 

Eric is standing on the stage, speaking to the crowd. His normally cheerful demeanour is missing, and his disapproval carries a dangerous edge.

In front of him, most of the neighbourhood is gathered, with the exceptions of Anathema, Mary, Shadwell, Aziraphale, and Crowley. Gabriel and Dagon are sitting in the front row, alongside HASTUR and Ligur.

**ERIC** : If I were a nice boss, I would start by acknowledging the things we’ve done well. I would talk about Aziraphale’s medal and joke about the fire squid and compliment whoever’s idea it was to make all of the coffee come from those stupid little pods.

A beat.

**ERIC** : (cont’d) But I’m not a nice boss. I’m an evil one, and I am most displeased. You had one job, and you blew it. (then) Hastur! What’s everyone here supposed to be doing?

**Hastur** : (hesitantly) Er, torture the humans?

**ERIC** : (snidely) Well, you’re not wrong. And Dagon, how were we going to do that?

Dagon answers immediately.

**DAGON** : The plan was to keep the humans separated from one another and focus on creating some nice, individual torment. Last time, letting the humans interact with each other led to too many surprises.

**ERIC** : Right! So where were you when Shadwell burst into Aziraphale’s bookshop?!

Dagon pauses to choose her words carefully.

**DAGON** : When I first exposed Shadwell to Leo, he reacted in an unexpected way. I did not follow him after that encounter because I wanted to avoid him becoming too suspicious of me.

**ERIC** : (irritably) Who the here is Leo?

**DAGON** : My -- the black cat prop.

**ERIC** : Whatever. Usher, as soon as you’re fully recorporated, monitor and torment Shadwell with Dagon.

The FLATTENED USHER makes an unintelligible sound which Eric correctly interprets as agreement.

**ERIC** : Hastur, Ligur, how could you let Mary and Crowley stand together during the party, talking? I had to separate them myself!

Hastur and Ligur carefully do not look at each other. Hastur comes up with a very clever excuse.

**HASTUR** : We were distracted by the fire!

Ligur nods.

**LIGUR** : I love fire.

**HASTUR** : My main job is to burn people with fire.

The crowd NODS in agreement, but Eric is not convinced.

**ERIC** : That was before the fire squid!

He takes a deep breath.

**ERIC** : (menacingly) Anyway, not important. It’s going in your files, and we can’t change that. (a beat) But going forward, we cannot allow the humans to spend any more time together! Understood?

The CROWD answers as a chorus.

**CROWD** : Yes!

**ERIC** : Good. Especially Aziraphale and Shadwell! Aziraphale has already confessed to me that he does not belong here, and since Shadwell is the only other human he’s had contact with, we have to assume that Shadwell somehow inspired this _selfless_ behavior.

He pulls a face after saying “selfless,” so it’s clear that the word alone leaves a yucky taste in his mouth.

**ERIC** : Anway, “torture” on three. (then) Ready? One, two, three…

**CROWD** : Torture!

INT. MARY’S SITTING ROOM - LATER 

Mary sits on a leather sofa in a large, opulently decorated room. Hastur rushes in, catches sight of her, then tries to act casual.

Mary watches him, her silence expectant. Hastur glares back, but also begins to pat himself down for some cigarettes.

A beat.

**MARY** : Where did you nip out to?

**HASTUR** : (unconvincingly) Nowhere! 

**MARY** : I couldn’t find you anywhere. I thought maybe the squid had flattened you.

Hastur does not reply. Lacking any cigarettes, he pulls out a lighter and repeatedly flicks it on and off.

**MARY** : (cont’d) Are you alright?

**HASTUR** : Fine.

A beat. He turns to leave.

**HASTUR** : Night.

He turns and walks away, then calls from outside of the shot.

**HASTUR** : Don’t leave the house by yourself!

Mary frowns pensively.

INT. FROZEN YOUGHURT SHOP - NEXT DAY

The shop is filled with well-made, comfortable-looking furniture and tasteful decorations. Appealing photos of frozen youghurt hang on the walls.

A long queue of customers snakes through the middle of the shop and out of the front door. Crowley stands at the front of the line, dramatically deliberating over the menu. Anathema stands on the other side of the counter, facing Crowley. The counter does not have a till.

**CROWLEY** : (to Anathema) They all look so good! I can’t decide.

He turns to face PERDITA, the person behind him.

**CROWLEY** : You go ahead.

**PERDITA** : Thanks.

She steps up to the counter.

**ANATHEMA** : What can I get you, Perdita?

**PERDITA** : Wow, there are so many flavours!

Crowley interjects before Anathema can respond, speaking very quickly.

**CROWLEY** : Yep. Thirty-nine flavours of frozen youghurt, here. Maybe even more. Anathema recommended “Full Mobile Phone Battery” to me. Tasted _divine_.

Perdita politely refrains from side-eying him.

**PERDITA** : Well, that sounds lovely, but I think I’ll try some “Folded Laundry.”

**ANATHEMA** : Coming right up!

DING. Anathema hands Perdita her frozen youghurt.

Perdita turns to leave, but stops once Crowley continues to speak to her. Crowley talks very quickly, like a door-to-door salesperson who is determined to finish their pitch.

**CROWLEY** : I really miss having a full mobile phone battery. What about you, Perdita? Don’t you wish there were mobile phones here?

Perdita shifts nervously, reluctant to stall the queue.

**PERDITA** : I can’t say I’ve given it much thought.

She gestures towards the door with her spoon.

**PERDITA** : (cont’d) I’m going to find a table outside. I don’t want my frozen youghurt to melt!

Crowley has already lost interest.

**CROWLEY** : (distractedly) Right, cool.

He pulls a pencil and a pad of paper out of his jacket and leans over the counter to add Perdita’s name to a list that he is making.

Perdita walks out of the shot. Mary steps forwards into the space beside Crowley.

Crowley finishes writing and tucks the pad and pencil back into his jacket. He begins speaking before turning to see who is next.

**CROWLEY** : Oi! No jumping the queue, this is the Good Pl--

He catches sight of Mary and freezes. He straightens, then returns to slouching in an attempt at nonchalance.

**MARY** : (blithely) Hello, Crowley! It’s nice to see you again.

Crowley waves his fingers.

**CROWLEY** : Hey.

**MARY** : Are you the reason the queue has been so slow?

Before Crowley can reply, Ligur hurries over. His chameleon is left next to a partially eaten bowl of frozen youghurt on a nearby table.

**LIGUR** : (very loudly) Crowley, we need to go home. ChaCha, Cutter, Corky, Crummy, and Zoom need feeding.

He grabs Crowley’s arm and tries to pull him away. Crowley resists.

**CROWLEY** : (impatiently) Alright, alright, chill your beans. Let me get my frozen youghurt first.

He looks at Anathema.

**CROWLEY** : Could I have a little bit of everything, mixed together?

**ANATHEMA** : Sure.

DING. A bowl of youghurt appears in Anathema’s hands. She offers it to Crowley.

Crowley does not reach to take it.

**CROWLEY** : There are thirty-nine flavours of frozen youghurt in there? You don’t have to, uh, scoop them and then mix them by hand? 

**ANATHEMA** : (cheerfully) Nope! Here you go.

Crowley is clearly thinking hard. Ligur glares at him.

**MARY** : Um, actually, Anathema, I think Crowley has changed his mind. He probably wants to wait and think a bit longer? And let me order first?

She looks at Crowley meaningfully.

**MARY** : (cont’d) Right?

**CROWLEY** : Y-yeah! That, what she said! I mean--

He pauses to take a breath.

**CROWLEY** : (cont’d) --definitely! Go ahead, Mary! I’m going to wait right here. And, think. About my frozen youghurt!

Ligur’s dissatisfied glower intensifies.

**LIGUR** : Crowley: ChaCha, Cutter, Corky, Crummy, and Zoom are living things. Living things starve if they don’t repeatedly receive food.

Crowley blinks. A beat.

**CROWLEY** : (gamely) Right you are, Ligur! Which is why I need this frozen youghurt! And why you, as my soulmate, should not deny me it! After all, this is the Good Place, right?

Ligur hesitates.

**LIGUR** : Fine. But this is your last chance, Crowley.

Crowley shoots finger guns at Ligur.

**CROWLEY** : Cheers.

**ANATHEMA** : (to Mary) What can I get you, Mary?

Mary makes a show of studying the menu.

**MARY** : Hm. Do you have “My House?”

**ANATHEMA** : There’s “Taking Off Your Shoes When You Arrive Home.”

**MARY** : No, thank you. How about “Alone at Midnight?”

DING. Another bowl of frozen youghurt appears in Anathema’s hands. She offers it to Mary.

**ANATHEMA** : Here you go!

**MARY** : Thanks, Anathema!

She turns back towards Crowley and Ligur.

**MARY** : It was good to see you again, Crowley. (then) … It was nice to meet you, Ligur.

Ligur does not reply. Crowley shifts from foot to foot under the weight of his glare.

**CROWLEY** : (to Mary) Ciao.

Mary walks out of the shot, carrying her frozen youghurt.

Crowley turns back to face the frozen youghurt counter. He suddenly realises that he must choose a flavour now, a very important decision which he has not given any serious thought.

**CROWLEY** : Shirt. Can I have another sample of “Full Mobile Phone Battery?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I plan to update in two weeks.


End file.
